Day 198: Letting Go of Politeness

“Nice” is not the same as kind, honest, or courageous.

Scene & Symbol: “But dear God, I’m here.”

There’s a moment in Alice Walker’s The Color Purple that doesn’t shout, but it thunders. After a lifetime of being silenced by men, by custom, by a culture that taught her that surviving meant smiling, Celie stands. Her voice, faint at first, swells into defiance: “I’m poor, Black, I may even be ugly, but dear God, I’m here.”

It is not a declaration of war. It is not an act of revenge. It is something far more powerful: a reclamation of presence. Celie doesn’t rise in a blaze of violence. She doesn’t even raise her voice. What she does is stop apologizing for existing. She stops being nice. And in that moment, we feel it: the quiet revolution of someone who has had enough of being polite in a world that has never been kind in return.

The Cultural Spell: Where "Nice" Became the Cage

The word “polite” stems from the Latin politus; to be polished, refined, smooth. But what begins as a practice of civility can quickly slip into performance. Especially for those who are told, explicitly or implicitly, that their truth is too sharp, too much, too inconvenient to be spoken aloud.

From an early age, many of us were taught to use politeness like a mask:

  • Girls praised for being “nice” instead of bold.

  • Queer kids who learned to minimize themselves to stay safe.

  • Children of immigrants who were told to “blend in, not cause trouble.”

In families, it might sound like “Don’t upset your father.” In classrooms: “Be respectful, even if they’re being unfair.” In boardrooms: “Play the game if you want to rise.”

But here’s the trick: the longer you wear the mask, the more you forget it’s there. And politeness, far from being a neutral trait, becomes a spiritual tax paid to preserve someone else’s comfort. Niceness, when extracted from sincerity, is not kindness. It’s a currency used to buy safety at the cost of clarity.

Truth Science: The Psychology Behind Swallowed Voices

The impulse to remain polite is not just cultural. It’s biological, psychological, and deeply social. And the science is clear: the cost of chronic self-silencing is high.

Conformity & the “False Consensus” Trap: Solomon Asch’s 1951 conformity experiments famously showed how people would give blatantly wrong answers just to avoid going against the group. But what’s more relevant today is what researchers call pluralistic ignorance: the belief that you're the only one who feels differently, even when everyone else secretly agrees with you. This explains why meetings stay quiet when someone says something offensive. Or why a dinner party full of activists might still laugh at a joke they hate. We stay polite because we believe truth is unwelcome even when it isn’t.

Self-Silencing and Health: Psychologist Dana Jack coined the term self-silencing to describe a pattern especially common in women: suppressing thoughts, needs, or anger to maintain relationships. In multiple longitudinal studies, self-silencing has been linked to higher rates of depression, autoimmune disorders, and even cardiovascular disease. The body, it turns out, keeps the score. Swallowed truths don’t disappear; they metabolize into illness.

Prosocial vs. People-Pleasing: Being generous or cooperative is healthy. But people-pleasing is different. It’s not about giving—it’s about avoiding rejection. According to Dr. Harriet Braiker, author of The Disease to Please, this form of behavior is often driven by childhood conditioning: the need to earn love or avoid punishment.

Here’s the difference:

  • Prosocial behavior says, “I want to help because it brings me joy.”

  • People-pleasing says, “I’ll say yes because I’m afraid of what will happen if I don’t.”

Politeness becomes the uniform we wear to pass as agreeable, likeable, easy. But we can’t build real connection when we’re hidden beneath a costume.

The Small Liberation: A Truth You Can Try

Let’s bring this home. No homework. No worksheet. Just a moment of choice.

Think back to a recent moment when you said, “It’s fine,” but it wasn’t. When you smiled but wanted to scream. When you nodded but your chest ached. Now, close your eyes and replay that moment in your mind but differently. You don’t need to shout. You don’t need to burn bridges. Just speak the truth with clarity and grace:

“Actually, I felt uncomfortable when that was said.”
“Can I be honest? That moment really hurt.”
“I want to share my perspective, even if it’s hard.”

This is not about confrontation. It’s about congruence. When what you say matches what you feel, you come back into alignment. And that alignment is freedom. And the next time you find yourself holding back, pause. Ask yourself gently: “Was I being kind—or was I trying to be accepted?” Let that question guide you. Because real kindness doesn’t require you to vanish. It asks you to show up; honest, whole, and here.

Closing Echo: “I’m here.”

Politeness is not evil. It’s just incomplete. It gets us through airports and elevators and awkward introductions. But when it begins to silence your truth, it becomes a leash.

Celie’s final line in The Color Purple is not a threat. It is a prayer of return: “Dear God, I’m here.” She does not offer herself with polish. She offers herself in truth.

And today, we invite you to do the same. Let go of politeness as performance. Speak the sentence you keep editing. Choose discomfort over disappearance. Choose presence over perfection. Because you don’t need to be agreeable to be worthy. You don’t need to be liked to be loved. You don’t need to be polite to be powerful.

You just need to be here.

#LucivaraOfficial #LucivaraCourage #KindNotNice #LettingGoOfPoliteness #QuietCourage #SpeakWithClarity #TheColorPurple #PresenceOverPerformance
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Day 197: Boundaries Are Brave